A Match Made In Heaven
by BirdFlashShipper
Summary: At five years old, something very tragic happened to Dean Winchester that forced him to grow up. After losing the only friend he had many years later, someone else wants to be his friend. Will their friendship work out, or could it become something more? Highschool AU
1. The Start of it All

"Mom!" The five-year-old yelled as he ran around the corner at top speed, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Mom! Dad's gonna eat all the cookies! Make him give me some!" He squealed as he ran into his mother.

She looked down on him, a soft smile lighting up her fair features. Her golden hair fell perfectly over her shoulders as she reached down to pick up her oldest little boy. "Alright, Dean, let's go see if John can spare some cookies for you."

Dean smiled brightly; He loved his mother. She was always there, always listened to him, loved him, made sure he was happy. Even though that's what all mothers do, he felt as if his mom did it the best. He was certain that if there was a contest for the best mother on the planet, she would easily win first place.

She carried him back to the kitchen, stepping around some of the toys and Christmas decorations lying about. "John? Are you hogging all of the cookies again?" She asked her husband sternly, catching him with a cookie hanging out of his mouth.

"No…" He replied, wiping away the crumbs from his mouth and giving Dean a little glare. "You weren't supposed to tell on me!" He griped.

"But you wouldn't let me have any!" Dean whined, taking the cookie his mother had grabbed for him and shoving it in his mouth.

"I think you've had enough, dear." She laughed, her face glowing with contentment. "Now, how about you take Dean outside and start putting up the outside decorations." She suggested, running her hand through her son's short hair.

John nodded and held his hand out for Dean to take; he did. They went outside, after pulling on a few layers so he "wouldn't freeze his tushy off", as his mother had put it.

"So, Deany-boy, what do you wanna put up first?" He knew this was a stupid question because he already knew Dean's favorite decoration.

"The sleigh, Dad! Let's put up the sleigh!" The little boy jumped with excitement, following his father to the shed where he somehow managed to store all of their Christmas decorations.

They managed to free the large sleigh from a pile of lights and began dragging it over to the front of the yard. Dean climbed in, not adding that much extra weight to the already heavy sleigh, and rode it to the annual designated spot for it.

"Alright, get out! We got loads more to put up!' His father instructed, lifting Dean from the sleigh and heading back off for the shed.

They spent the next three hours outside, stringing the lights to the roof, hooking up the light-up reindeer to the sleigh, setting up the fake trees that lit up to the tune of a music box it was connected to.

They stumbled back inside, tired and cold. Dean's sleepy eyes met with his mother sitting on the couch holding his newborn baby brother. Happiness lit up his face as he ran over to little Sammy.

He knelt in front of his mother, looking into her tired eyes for permission to hold him. He was granted it and soon his baby brother was in his arms, fast asleep. He looked so small, so in need of protection, and Dean knew he'd always be there to look out for him. From the moment they brought home the small blue bundle close to six months ago, he knew his job was to be the strong older brother that would protect him from anything that could harm him. He knew that in some way, Sammy was his responsibility, and he had to watch out for him.

"I finally got him to sleep." She yawned, her drowsy eyes showing the effort that had been put into that task.

"I'll take him to his crib, Mom. You should get some sleep." He stood up and she ruffled his hair, his Dad coming into the room now, another cookie in his mouth.

Dean rolled his eyes at him and quietly walked to Sammy's bedroom, laying the helpless baby in his crib, trying not to wake him. Sammy began to stir some, sending Dean into a mode of pure caring.

He shushed his little brother, petting the top of his head soothingly. He fussed a bit more and Dean knew what to do. He took in a breath and sang quietly, slowly. "Carry on my wayward son; there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more." He didn't have to sing any more than that because Sammy was fast asleep again.

A smile inched its way onto his face as he slipped out of the nursery. He headed to his own room, prepared to sleep. He sat on his bed for a moment before throwing back the covers and removing his shirt and jeans, slipping into an old pair of pj's he always wears. For how old they were, it surprised Dean every time he put them on that they still fit him. They had little teddy bears on them and they were his favorite.

He had just slid under the covers when his mother entered his room carrying two steaming mugs in her hands.

"Here, you boys worked hard out there today; have some hot chocolate." She smiled sweetly. He took one of the mugs from her and carefully took a sip. It was hot, but not hot enough to give your mouth a third-degree burn. His mom always made his hot chocolate perfect. It was one of the countless things he loved about her.

"I can't believe you'll be starting preschool this year." She sighed, running her hand through his hair. "It seems that just yesterday I was taking care of you like I am Sammy." She let a sad smile cross her lips briefly, taking a drink to try to hide it. But it was too late; Dean had seen it.

"Mom, you know I'll always be here, right?" He rested his free hand on hers and smiled. "I'll always be your little boy and you know that."

She smiled proudly this time. "Since when did you grow up so much Dean? I mean, soon enough you might have to fight your father for the rights to be the man of the house!" She laughed, bringing a smile back to Dean's face. He loved it when she was happy. Anytime he saw sadness or fear in her eyes, he was filled with rage at whatever had made her feel that way. He never wanted her to be sad or scared ever again, and he was going to be there to make sure.

Soon the cups were empty and Dean was barely keeping his eyes open. He laid down and covered up, snuggling into the blankets for as much warmth as they could give. His mother rested her hand on his head and smiled.

She opened her mouth and began singing 'Hey Jude' softly; her voice was beautiful and soothing, making him instantly relax more. He drifted off as his mother finished, saying that his angel was watching over him. That made him feel even more safe as he fell asleep, thoughts of Christmas dancing in his head.

He awoke the next morning with a smile on his face, knowing that today was the day Bobby was coming over for dinner. Bobby was like an Uncle to him, even though they weren't related in any way. He was his Dad's best friend and he was like family.

It saddened him to think that Bobby's wife wouldn't be joining them anymore now that she had died. Her death snuck up on everyone, even her. She didn't know she had cancer until it was too late, too late to save her. Bobby had to watch her die and you could tell he still wasn't over the shock. It had been an entire year and they hoped he'd snap out of it sooner or later. It looked like it was going to be the latter.

He shook away thoughts of bobby's wife and jumped out of bed to get dressed. Soon fully clothed and well rested, he ran out of his room, practically running into Bobby. It surprised him to see him here this early, but he was happy nonetheless.

"Watch where you're goin', ya idjit." Bobby said, a smile forcing its way onto his lips.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted, hugging him tightly. He picked him up and spun his around a little, clearly glad to see Dean as well.

"Wow, you've grown a lot since the last time I saw you!" He sounded genuinely happy, and that made Dean smile even more.

"It's only been since Thanksgiving, Uncle Bobby!" Dean giggled, squirming out of Bobby's grip.

"So? I'd say you're possibly a whole inch taller!" He grinned, ruffling his hair like his mom does.

"No way!" He refused to believe it. He laughed when Bobby picked him up again, throwing him over his shoulder and taking him back to the living room.

"John, you'll never believe it, but I think that little monster has grown!" He smiled, throwing Dean down on the couch. Dean folded his arms in embarrassment but couldn't keep the smile off of his face; not when Bobby was around.

"Has he now?" John asked, walking up to Dean and giving him a good stare. "Nah, if anything, he's gotten shorter!" John teased, angering little Dean.

"No way I'm shorter! I grew!" Dean grumbled, looking away from his father in false anger.

"Would you boys kindly quiet down?" His mother said, entering the room with a squirmy baby in her arms.

Bobby walked up to her and she handed Sammy over to him. "God, Mary, he's so small. I remember when Dean over there was this size." Dean huffed, the huff going unnoticed by the adults.

"So do I, but now he's my little soldier." She said, shooting Dean a loving smile, filling him with her warmth and causing him to smile again.

"And my little protégé! Soon enough I'll let him start working with me in the garage. I'll teach him everything I know!" He announced proudly.

Dean smiled at the thought of getting to work with his father on something like cars; it could be their thing, the thing that they will have in common even when he gets older.

Mary smiled at her boys proudly and went to the kitchen to begin preparing for supper. Sammy sat in the kitchen with Mary while she cooked and the boys stayed in the living room to watch sports.

They sat by the tv for a few hours, one of them occasionally going to the kitchen to check on the progress of the food. Mary had ushered them out each time, telling them it'd be done soon enough and to be patient.

Within minutes after the last time John checked, Mary called them to the kitchen. "Now boys, set the table and wash up, I'll set out the food." She instructed, beginning to bring out the turkey.

Soon enough, the table was set and ready, each of them in their seats, little Sammy in the high chair by Mary and John. Before they ate, they all held hands to say grace.

"Dear Heavenly Father, bless this food that we are about to eat and bless the ones who eat it. Protect us and guide us, in Jesus name, Amen" _**(Sorry I'm no good at prayers… This probably wasn't good but I don't usually say grace so I wasn't sure how to go about it.) **_

They began to dig into their food, Sammy occasionally getting a bite of mashed potatoes.

"This is really good Mom." Dean complimented, shoving more food into his mouth and giving a small "mmm."

"Thanks, sweetie." She smiled, gracefully continuing to eat the food she had piled into her own plate.

It didn't take long for them all to finish up, setting their plates in the sink, rinsing them off some. Bobby and John went back to the living room to continue watching sports and Dean stayed back to help his Mother with cleaning up.

He wrapped up leftovers as she scrubbed the dishes. He put away the plates after she dried them. He wiped down the table as she put away Sammy's high chair. Soon, the kitchen was spotless and she threw her arm over his shoulder.

"Thanks Dean, you didn't have to help." She smiled down at him.

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to!" He smiled back. She ruffled his hair like she always did, giving him a tight hug afterwards.

"I love you, Dean." She kissed the top of his head. He snuggled closer to her.

"I love you too, Mom."

They joined John and Bobby in the living room, taking their seats. Dean had wanted to hold Sammy so his little brother was lying quietly in his lap. They sat peacefully for a long while, just enjoying each other's company.

When Bobby realized the time, he sat up and stretched, saying how he'd better be on his way.

"Thanks for comin', Bobby." John shook hands with him.

"Come back anytime, you're always welcome here." Mary smiled, pulling him into one of her famous hugs.

"Bye-bye Uncle Bobby!" Dean hugged Bobby tightly. "See you soon!"

"See you guys," he said, opening the front door. "Merry Christmas!" He left, closing the door and stopping the flow of cold air from outside from its invasion into the house.

"Whelp, it's pretty late, boys. Better be heading off to bed." Mary instructed. Dean yawned and slowly made his way back to his bedroom. Once Sammy was taken care of and sleeping, his mom entered his room.

He was already in pj's and under the covers when she came in.

"Sleepy?' She asked, taking a seat on the side of his bed. He nodded in response and snuggled up under the covers. She told him like she did every night that an angel was watching over him before she sang 'Hey Jude' to him again. He knew he'd never grow tired of hearing her sing that to him. Her wonderful voice was so calming and comforting that he liked her version better.

A strange feeling entered his stomach, one that told him something bad was going to happen but he chose to ignore it, drifting off to the sweet sound of his mother's voice.

He awoke with a start, panic rising within him as he heard his mother scream. He jumped out of bed and ran to find her, instinct leading him to the nursery. He was greeted with the awful sight. He saw his mother on the ground, bleeding from her stomach as she cried. A tall dark man exited from the window, blood on his hands. His Dad ran in as the masked man threw in a match, catching the curtains on fire.

His Dad instantly grabbed little Sammy and gave him to Dean. "Dean! Take your brother outside NOW!" He yelled. All Dean could do was nod and follow orders. He ran. He ran outside and took Sammy with him, worry clouding his brain along with the smoke.

When he was freed from the wafting clouds of smoke and breathed in the crisp winter air, he realized what was really happening. The fire was spreading fast, the roof already looking like it was going to cave in.

"DAD! MOM!" He cried, his screams waking up everyone on the block. He wanted to go in and save them, but he knew he had to stay with Sammy, had to keep following orders.

He watched and waited for what seemed like hours when he saw his father exit the front door, flames dancing behind his back, cradling a frail body in his strong arms. Disbelief and horror welled up inside Dean and he felt the need to find the man that had done this and end them… even though he knew he was only five.

"Dad! Is Mom alright? Is she gonna be okay?" Stress and anxiety radiated off of his body.

"Did you call an ambulance?!" His Father screamed at him.

Dean shrunk down; after all, he didn't have a phone yet so how could he have? "No… I-I don't have a phone." He replied meekly, hoping his Father wasn't angry with him.

His Dad grumbled and laid his Mother on the grass, taking his phone out and dialing 911. While his Dad was on the phone, Dean tried to focus on his Mother. She was barely breathing, blood stained all over the front of her dress. Her skin was darkened, no doubt by all the flames and he thought about the fact that she might not make it.

_NO. _She HAD to make it, she just HAD to. She couldn't leave him. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep without hearing her sweet voice lull him off to dream land. He knew he wouldn't be able to live off of his Dad's cooking. He knew Sammy needed her even more than he did; he didn't want Sammy to grow up without her. He also knew that if she was gone, knowing his Father, he might even have to raise Sammy himself. He wasn't prepared for that.

He mentally slapped himself as his Dad hung up on the paramedics, kneeling down to his Mom. He watched as his Dad held her tightly, trying to hide his tears in her hair; her once clean, beautiful hair that had framed her face in the most elegant way. His Dad held his Mom and he held Sammy; a family that would be forever broken.

Time edged away as the blinding red and blue lights pulled him back to sanity. He watched as they loaded his Mother onto the stretcher and into the back. He held onto Sammy, climbing in the back with his Father who insisted he was fine and that they focused on my Mom. Dean couldn't think straight as he watched them poke at his Mom, sticking things into her arms and holding a mask over her mouth.

He forced himself to focus on Sammy, make him stop crying, make him understand that everything was okay, that Mom would be okay. He held him tight and rocked him, singing softly to calm him. This time he chose to sing 'Hey Jude', disappointed that his version was way worse than his Mom's. Still, Sammy slowly calmed down, falling asleep in his arms.

"You're really good with him." A short woman noted, touching his hand with hers.

He smiled weakly. "Thanks."

She smiled back, "You're a pretty good singer too." She tried her luck at lightening the mood, quickly realizing that it wouldn't work. "Sorry, we'll do everything that we can for your Mother, she seems strong, she should pull through." She tried reassurance.

Dean just nodded, holding Sammy closer to him.

Soon they were in the hospital, emergency doctors taking his Mother from him as other nurses tried to assess the damage done to Dean, Sammy, and their Dad. He and Sam were fine, his Dad had some minor burns and probably some lung issues, but it was clear they were all okay. All except for their Mother.

They were told later that they did all they could but the damage was too great. She would have only hours before she would take in her last gulps of air.

He walked into the cold white room, seeing his Mother on the bed. Somehow, she was conscious, of only barely, but she smiled weakly at him.

"My…. L-li… ttle…. S… ol…dier…." She finally managed.

"Shhhh… Mom don't speak, everything's going to be alright, okay? You're going to be fine and soon you'll be home with us again and cooking and everything will be back to the way it was." He tried to be strong; strong for his Mother, strong for Sammy. He had to hold everything together because he wasn't sure if his Dad would be able to.

She smiled as widely as she could, giving a small nod, agreeing that she'd be home in no time. He smiled weakly back at her as his Dad came into the room. His head was hung low, tears were stained on his face and he looked as though he'd been run over by a truck.

He walked over to her bedside and held her hand, a fake smile plastered on his face, just for her. They sat in silence, there was no need to talk, no need to poison the few precious hours she had left with false hopes and lies.

The hours drug by slowly as her breathing became more forced and ragged. She tried speaking, telling them that she was fine, that she would miss them, that they'd do fine without her. They all knew what she was trying to say wasn't true; there was no way they'd all keep it together after she was gone but he knew they'd have to give it their best shot.

Her final moments were the most painful thing Dean had ever had to endure. She coughed and gasped for air, but it couldn't find its way to her lungs. She gripped John's hand tightly, like she was trying to take some of his air, but it wouldn't come. She struggled, not wanting to give up, but knowing the effort was futile and the pain she was putting herself through to try and stay alive wasn't worth it.

She gasped for the last time and went limp, all life fleeing from her eyes. John, rested his head on her hand and cried. They stayed for another hour, crying and disbelieving, wishing it was all a horrible nightmare and they'd all wake up from it eventually and they'd all be fine before the nurses made them leave. They were informed that the body would be taken to the morgue to await their decisions.

"I want her cremated." His father wasted no time; he clearly wanted to just get it over with.

"Are you sure? If so, I'll go ahead and inform the morgue and-"

"I'm sure." John cut her off. She nodded and scampered away. John turned to Dean and he looked into his Father's eyes. Where there had once been happiness and life, there was nothing. No sparkle, it was cold. His eyes were blank and Dean got the strange feeling he wasn't his father anymore.

"We're renting a motel until I can get an apartment." Was all he said, leaving the room, expecting Dean to follow. He did, staying as close as he could as to not get lost.

He sat down on the motel bed and laid Sammy down next to him. John sat on the other bed and stared at the wall.

"Dad…? Will you be okay? I-"

"NO I WILL NOT BE OKAY, DEAN. I JUST WATCHED THE ONLY WOMAN I EVER LOVED DIE. I HELD HER HAND AS SHE FOUGHT FOR AIR. OF COURSE I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY! I'M NOT SURE IF I'LL EVER BE OKAY AGAIN." He shouted, scaring Dean. He shrinked down, picking up Sammy again now that he had begun to cry. "I'm going out." John got up and left, slamming the door behind him.

Alone and with a crying baby, Dean let the tears come. The tears that he'd wanted to cry when his mom died, the tears he'd wanted to cry when his father stormed out. He'd known this was going to happen, so why did it come as such a surprise?

Dean wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and made himself stop crying. No, he wouldn't cry. He'd put tears behind him. At five years old, he vowed to never cry again, he vowed to be the strong older brother and to never let any more harm come to his baby brother. He vowed to take care of him, leave behind any hopes and dreams and grow up. He promised himself he'd help save up for Sammy's college by working as many jobs as he could manage.

At five years old, Dean became the man of the house, just like his mother said he would.


	2. The First Day of School

"Sammy! Get your lazy ass up!" Dean yelled down the hallway to his brother. "You gotta get ready for school!"

Sam grumbled as he crawled out of bed, raiding his drawers for some pants and a shirt to wear. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt and scurried off to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Dean threw the butter-covered knife in the sink, setting out the plates for breakfast. He filled the plates with toast and scrambled eggs, placing a glass of orange juice by each one. He took his seat and glanced over at the two empty chairs next to him, rolling his eyes. He dropped his fork and got up, heading to the room at the end of the hall.

He knocked on the door. "Dad. Get up. Breakfast is ready. You've got work to do." He heard shifting inside the room and took that as he was getting up. As he made his way back to the kitchen he heard the shower water turn off, knowing Sammy would be out of the bathroom soon.

Dean sat back down and began eating the food he had set out earlier. He thought back to that night, the night he became the man of the house and gave a small, sad laugh. That was almost 13 years ago now. Now he was a senior in High School and today was the first day of school. Sammy's first day as a Freshman.

"Wow, Dean! This looks good!" Sammy said, tossing his backpack by the couch and joining him at the table.

Dean smiled and ruffled Sam's hair like his mom used to do to him. "Thanks Sammy. You ready for your first day as a Freshman?"

Sam nodded eagerly and started eating his toast. "Yeah, I can't wait! I'm going to join so many clubs and-"

John walked out of his bedroom then, his stubble taking over his face and his bloodshot eyes standing out over the bags underneath of them. "What're 'ya lookin' at?" He grumbled, taking his seat beside Sam.

Sam lowered his head to avoid his father's gaze. "Nothing Dad…"

"That's right." He muttered, stuffing his face sloppily with eggs and toast.

Dean slammed his fork down on the table with force. "Enough, Dad. Stop it. I've had it with you. You've made your own son afraid to even sit next to you at breakfast! How can you live with yourself?" Dean took his empty plate to the sink and ran off to his room.

With his hand curled tightly into a fist, he slammed it down as hard as he could on the wall, the pain barely even registering in his mind. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and slipped back out of his room.

Marching through the kitchen he saw Sammy at the sink, cleaning up while his dad was still eating at the table, as if his words didn't make an impact on him whatsoever.

"Sammy, why don't you go wait out in the car for a minute, okay? I'll be out in a second." He gave him a fake smile as Sam nodded, running off to the car.

"So this is it? You're gonna be like this for the rest of your life? Not even responding to your own sons? You know how long it's been? It's been thirteen FUCKING years, Dad! Mom wouldn't want this!"

"Don't you even bring up your mother!" John trembled, standing up with rage.

"Why not? It's the only thing that ever gets you to come back to us!" Dean was oozing hatred.

"Get out of the house. Now." John warned.

"Why should I? I don't have to take orders from you anymore. Mom wo-" The stream of words was stopped by the pain that struck his face. He looked up in shock at his father, raising a hand to the spot of impact. As he took it away he saw the blood and looked back up at his dad.

He looked like regretted it but Dean didn't want to stick around to find out. He ran outside and went straight to the car. He jumped into the front seat and quickly turned on the car, avoiding Sam's worried gaze.

"Dean? Dean, what happened?!" Sam asked, lightly touching Dean's gash as the pulled out of the driveway.

"Nothing, Sammy. I'm fine. Let's just go okay?" He smiled. "I don't wanna make my smart little over-achieving brother late for his first day of high School!" He ruffled Sam's hair and they left.

"Dean, I'm not stupid. Tell me what happened." Sam urged.

"Nothing. I said some things, he yelled and hit me then I left. See? It's nothing. I'm fine, Dad's fine, now drop it." Dean spoke nonchalantly.

"That's not nothing, Dean!"

"Yes it is Sammy. It's normal, alright? I've been dealing with this for thirteen years now and I'm used to it." He brushed him off.

"Why for thirteen years?" Sammy asked. They never talked about it. Sam had asked about their mom growing up and he was always told that she was gone and was never coming back. Nothing more, nothing less. "Dean, tell me what happened to mom."

They pulled into the parking lot for the school and Dean sighed. "You wanna know so badly? Fine. If you regret knowing, don't blame me. You were six months old, it was nighttime, and it was around Christmas. A guy came into your nursery with a knife. Mom went in to check on you because you started crying and the guy stabbed her. I rushed in when I heard her screaming and I saw him covered in her blood. I couldn't move because I was so scared and then Dad came in. The guy threw a match into the house and set the curtains on fire. Dad grabbed you and gave you to me and told me to run outside so I did. He came out with Mom a little while later and we called 911. We were fine but Mom wasn't. Within a few hours Dad and I watched her die. Ever since then, Dad hasn't been there for us and I've had to raise you. I was five Sammy. I will always hate Dad for what he did and I guess he hates me too. Now get out of the car and hurry up."

Dean got out of the car and left a stunned Sam in the Impala. He walked inside and ducked his head down, like usual. Dean was a fighter, he never ran from a fight but he never liked to start them. He didn't want to be expelled because he felt like he had to protect Sammy at all times.

He didn't have any friends either; no one wanted to get close to him. A couple of girls had thrown themselves at him and, he has to admit, they were fun, but none of them wanted anything but sex from him.

He made his way to his locker and grabbed his notebooks for first period, avoiding the pitied look from his brother as he walked by. He shut his locker and rushed off to science class.

Dean maneuvered around people and took his seat in the back of the classroom; the empty seats next to him he knows won't be filled. He threw his stuff under his desk and waited for the bell.

Within the next few minutes the bell rang and the chirpy teacher came in followed by a man about his height.

"Good Morning boys and girls! Quickly now, take your seats! We have a new student! Would you like to introduce yourself and tell us a little about yourself?" She smiled way too brightly.

The dark-haired man nodded and stood up straightly, fixing the collar of his trench coat. "My name is Castiel Novak and I come from a very religious family. My father has moved us here to start a new church and I'm excited to be a part of this community now." He smiled brightly and scanned the room, his eyes lingering on Dean longer than any of the others.

"Castiel, that's a very nice name honey. Now, if you'd please choose a seat so we could get started." She smiled at him.

He nodded and took his notebooks to an open seat by Dean. "Hello, I'm Castiel!" He said, extending a hand to Dean who looked at it like it was poisoned. "You are?"

Dean shook his head and quickly lowered it back down. Dean could tell that Castiel gave him a confused look but he didn't want to ruin this guy's life by interacting with him.

"Alrighty! When I call your name, come up and get your book. And don't forget to tell me the number that's inside of it!" The teacher chirped.

"Hey, please tell me your name. I'd really like to make friends…" Castiel whispered.

Dean looked up and glanced over at him, the blood from the punch already dried over his eye. "Listen, Castiel. You seem nice," Castiel smiled at that, clearly trying to make it until he got his name to ask about his eye. "but you'd make more friends if you didn't talk to me. So if I were you, I'd pick a new seat, maybe by those girls that are looking over here at you."

Dean lowered his head again waited for his name to be called.

Castiel looked over at the girls who waved him over then looked back at Dean and decided to stay put. He wanted a friend, not girlfriends.

"Dean Winchester." The blonde teacher's smile faltered as he stood up.

"Oh, look! The failure came back for another year of beatings, did he?" Dean flinched as he got to the front of the room, laughter surrounding him.

"128." He mumbled to the teacher, taking his book back to his seat as the laughter grew. Even the teacher had joined in at some point.

"Alright class, settle down!" Her smile returned. "Last one! Castiel Novak!"

At this point Castiel was thoroughly disgusted. He got up and a couple of the girls whistled, some guys clapping as well.

"109." He told the teacher, staring at her like she had just shot his dog. She managed to keep her smile on for him.

"Castiel! Wanna hang with us later?" Some of the popular guys asked as he made his way back to his seat, smiles plastered on their faces as well.

"No. I most certainly would not like to hang with you. You all are very rude and I do not wish to associate with any of you. Now if you would kindly be quiet, I'm here to learn. Teacher, if you'd please." Castiel sat back down beside Dean with a smug smile on his face.

The class had not taken kindly to Castiel's words and neither had the teacher.

"Fine! Go hang out with daddy issues over there!" The same guy said.

"That is no way to talk to your teacher, young man! This is your first warning; you will NOT be granted another." She tossed her head and turned back to the board.

Dean stared at him with astonishment. "Why did you do that?" He whispered.

Castiel looked over at Dean with a loving smile. A smile that reminded him of his Mom's. "Because I didn't like the way they treated you. I don't believe that anyone deserves that."

Dean swallowed the knot in his throat. "T-Thanks… I guess…" He returned to looking at his desk. The rest of the hour was silent, hateful glances thrown their way multiple times.

The bell rang and Dean stood up, gathering his things.

"So, Dean, would you like to be friends?" Castiel asked hopefully.

Dean looked over at him with a blank expression. "Why?"

A confused expression made its way onto Castiel's face. "I'm not sure what you mean, Dean. Why what?"

"Why would you want to be friends with me? Like they said, I'm just a failure with daddy issues so wouldn't you much rather be friends with people who aren't messed up like me? Unless I'm just a project. In which case, I can see why you'd try to fix me; there's a lot to fix… but I don't need anyone's pity alright? I can handle myself." Dean grabbed his stuff and started to leave.

Castiel grabbed his arm. "Why would I want to be friends with people like them?" Dean gave no reply so he continued. "Who cares if you're messed up? Everyone is in their own way, I suppose. But you are not a project Dean; so what if I want to help you?"

Dean laughed and pulled his arm away. "So I am a project, heh. You don't even know me!"

"But I'd like to get to know you if you'd give me the chance!" Castiel called as Dean walked towards the door.

He turned around in the doorway and smiled sadly. "Please, just get in with the right crowd while you have the chance okay?" Then he turned and left, leaving Castiel in the room alone.

The first half of the day crawled by for Dean. He had most of his classes so far with Castiel and every hour he'd try to talk to him. He wanted to be his friend, but he knew he couldn't. He felt as if he was too messed up for anyone and he didn't want to bring anyone down with his problems. He could handle bullies himself and he could definitely handle his dad. He didn't want anyone's pity, especially some new kid who doesn't even know him.

He hurried out of the classroom and to the lunchroom, stomach growling like crazy. He quickly grabbed his food and made his way to his usual table. He sat down and sighed in relief at the silence being alone brought. He began to eat when he heard a tray hit the table.

"Dean, please reconsider letting me be your friend." Castiel sat down next to him.

Dean set his cheeseburger back down on his tray and sighed. "Castiel, why are you being so persistent?"

"Because, you're the only guy I've met all day that hasn't been pretentious and fake. You're real Dean, and I'd really like to be friends with you." Castiel took a bite of his burger, clearly not wanting to leave.

"Listen Castiel, it's nice of you to think that, but-"

"If I may ask, why are you wearing long sleeves? It's summertime." He took another bite of his burger and Dean swallowed nervously.

"No reason, I just like long sleeves. Now back to what I was saying-"he was interrupted again by Castiel grabbing his wrist tightly. "Ah! Castiel, let go!" He didn't, instead he pulled up the sleeve and gasped at what he saw.

"Dean! Dean, you didn't-"

Dean stood up quickly and pulled his sleeve back down. "I don't need this." He said, running out of the cafeteria, unnoticed by every teacher.

He ran outside and went straight to the Impala. Screw today, he didn't need to stay for the rest of the day. It was only the day they got their books so he'd get them tomorrow. He'd come back for Sammy.

He got in and revved up the engine, its soft purr calming him down some. He looked up at the school and sighed; he really didn't want to start the year off with ditching again but he didn't have much of a choice.

Castiel walked out of the front and looked around, Dean taking that as the signal to get the Hell out of there.

Castiel saw him drive away and was filled with regret. Why did he have to touch his wrist? He mentally slapped himself. _Because you were worried! _But that doesn't give you the right to invade his personal space!

_Why did he leave school though? Am I really being that invasive? Maybe I should lie off; he'll come talk to me when he wants to, right?_

He sighed and went back inside to the lunchroom and sat back down at Dean's table. Castiel took a bite of the burger and glanced over at the tray next to his that was still full. He sighed and decided he wasn't all that hungry. Grabbing both trays, he got up and dumped them, making his way back to the empty table.

"Hello?" Castiel looked up to see a tall boy with long hair making his way over.

"Yes?" He replied, curious as to why the younger boy wanted to speak with him.

"Are you my brother's friend?" He took a seat next to Castiel and looked at him with hopeful eyes. The same eyes as Dean's.

Castiel smiled at him and gave a small laugh. "Well, I'd like to be, but he's not making it easy."

"Yeah, he can be difficult. He doesn't trust anyone but me so he probably thinks you're just going to hurt him. You don't look like the type, though."

Castiel held out his hand. "Well, my name is Castiel, what's yours?"

The boy shook his hand with a smile and replied, "My name's Sam. I hope you guys can be friends; he hasn't had any friends, well, not since Jo but… never mind."

"What happened to Jo?" Castiel asked, honestly concerned.

"If I tell you, and you become friends with Dean, you have to promise to never speak of this, got it?" Sam questioned, glancing around the room to make sure no one was listening. Castiel gave a nod in response and Sam began. "Well, she was our neighbor growing up here and they got along from in instant we moved in. They were friends and she always helped him with his anger issues and his- well, Dean's problems aren't the point here. They got in a fight when she was over one night and she drove off, Dean didn't go after her. She got in a crash and died that night; everyday Dean blames himself for it."

"There's no way it is his fault. Why would he blame himself?"

"That's just how Dean is. He hasn't let anyone else close to him since; he's afraid it'll happen again. He's afraid he'll lose his temper and something bad will happen. That's why I think he needs a friend. He needs someone who can help him." Sam lowered his head, trying to hide the fact that he was rubbing at his eyes.

Castiel put a hand on his back and smiled sadly. "I wish to be that friend, but he likes to believe that I only see him as a project. I don't though, I see him as the only real person in this school. I can see through people, but with Dean, I can't and that makes him different."

Sam smiled at him. "Y'know, you're a really cool guy. I'll put in a good word for you at home."

Castiel lit up. "Really? Thank you, Sam."

"No, thank you, Castiel, I can tell that you're exactly what my brother needs. Please keep trying; he really is a good guy… Anyways, I gotta go back to my table now, my friends are probably starting to worry. I hope to see you soon!" He got up and ran off, leaving Castiel alone, but a lot happier.

Dean got out of the car and walked to the front of it, leaning against the hood. He pulled out his lighter and a cigarette, lighting it up and breathing in the smoke. He knew it was a bad habit but it seemed to calm him down and he really needed that sometimes.

He looked out at the view, the tops of the trees rustling in the slight summer breeze. He was at the only place he knew that no one would find him. He had a secret hideout by the edge of town that was basically on top of a small cliff. Up there, you could see the whole town and it calmed him, made him feel important, like he's something bigger than the city.

He threw down his cigarette and sat down on the edge of the cliff, feet dangling over the side. "God?" he sighed, looking up, hoping that he might be listening. "Castiel seems sweet, but… but that's the reason I can't let him get close to me. Not after… not after Jo. I can't go through that again and Castiel doesn't deserve it. I've never been good with people, or words… I just… I don't want to make him suffer for being friends with me. If he forgets me, he can be friends with better people than me, people with less problems, people with more of a chance in life and… and I just don't want to drag him down. If… if he's here for a reason, then I hope it's not for me…" Dean hung his head and kicked the rocks.

He got up and leaned against his car again, pulling out another cigarette.

"Sam! It's good to see you again! We haven't had like ANY classes together so far! Y'know, until now. I missed you so much over the summer! Did you do anything fun? Who am I kidding, of course you did! All I did was stay at home and be online but that's the life! Who even NEEDS sleep over the summer when you've got the internet!? I'm sad that I didn't get to see you at all but now that we're back in school, I'll see you every day! Isn't that great! I'll sit by you and we can talk all hour! Oh, this year's gonna be the best! Don't you think so Sammy?"

Sam blinked. "No. And you know Dean's the only one allowed to call me that, Becky."

She rolled her eyes. "But I like calling you Sammy… it's cute!"

"I told you no Becky! Besides, haven't I told you every single year that I don't like you like that? So please, back off."

"Hmph! You still have a crush on Jess, don't you!" Sam blushed at the mention of her name. "I knew it! Ugh! She's not even that pretty, Sam! I bet you she's not that smart either! Besides, you've been crushing on her for as long as I've been crushing on you and you've never even talked to her! I bet you you couldn't even do that!"

Sam's eye twitched. He was tired of listening to her. "Fine." He snarled. "I'll go talk to her!" He stomped across the room, hoping he hadn't wasted all of the time before the bell on Becky.

"H-Hey Jess…" He stuttered nervously.

She was sitting on her desk, surrounded by friends. She turned her head to look at him, her smile growing wider. "Hey Sam!" She giggled. Her friends nudged her arm and scurried off to their seats, peeking every so often.

"I was wondering if um… maybe you'd like to go see a movie with me sometime?" He nervously rubbed his hands together, thinking that maybe he should've said something else.

"Sure Sam, I'd love to. How about this Friday?" She scribbled something down on a piece of paper and handed it to him. "That's my address and phone number; pick me up at seven." She winked at him and slid into her seat, the bell ringing and sending him back to his own seat with a smile.

He sat down and waved the paper in Becky's face. "Look at that! HA!" He folded it back up and put in his pocket. "I've got a date on Friday!"

"Whatever…" She grumbled, arms folded angrily.

The class flew by as Sam daydreamed about Friday, only to be snapped back by the final bell.

He ran out of the room, stopping to give Jess surprise hug and leaving before she could say anything.

"Hurry up Sam!" Dean called as he saw his little brother exit the front doors.

Sam ran up with a huge smile on his face and made some sort of squeaking noise.

"What the Hell, Sammy?" He laughed, "Something good happen? Let me guess, you finally talked to Jess and now you've got a date?"

Sam's jaw dropped. "How did you know that?"

Dean laughed, "Well, you had the look of a guy who just got a yes from a girl and the only girl you've been talking about is that Jess girl so I just assumed."

Sam smiled at him, his smile fading quickly. "Dean?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah Sammy? What? You want me to drive you right?" He started assuming again.

"Well you have to, but that's not what I was going to ask about."

"Okay, shoot." Dean leaned against the hood of the car like he had been earlier and waited for Sam to talk.

"Well, it's just that I know you left school today and-"

"Sammy, stop. I had a reason and it's not going to be a regular thing alright? And besides, I know you're crazy about school but me? Eh, not so much. My grades aren't that important to me."

"Dean, I know why." Dean stopped talking and looked at Sam, raising an eyebrow. "I talked to Castiel after you left."

Dean's hand quickly covered his arm; he narrowed his eyes. "What did that invasive new kid tell you?"

"He told me that he wanted to be your friend. He told me it wasn't because you were a 'project', he said it was because he can see through people, but he couldn't see through you. He told me that you were different and that he'd try whatever it took to be your friend."

Dean's eyes softened some. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that you needed a friend, that he should keep trying. That he shouldn't give up on you because you really are a great person." Sam lowered his head and walked around the car, ducking into the front seat as Dean stood there in shock.

"Dean!" He heard it shouted from somewhere far away, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced around and saw Castiel running towards his car.

"Castiel?" When he finally made it over, he was slightly panting like a dog.

"Dean… wait a second…" He bent over and put his hands on his knees. Dean gave him a strange look but waited all the same. After Castiel caught his breath he looked Dean right in the eyes. He felt as if he was looking into his soul and he cringed away from his gaze.

"Dean, if you would please give me a chance, I would like to be your friend. I've never had a friend before because at my old school everyone thought I was awkward… Either way, I'm not sure if I approached you with the inclination of friendship in the proper way so I will try again." He held out his hand and flashed Dean a smile. "Would you like to be friends?"

Dean looked down then turned to look at Sam, who was grinning like crazy, giving him both thumbs up. He turned back to Castiel and gripped his hand. "I guess I could try… but-"

Dean's words were stopped by Castiel's arms being wrapped around his body. "Cas? What're you doing?" Dean squirmed uncomfortably.

"Embracing you. Isn't that what friends do?" He pulled back, afraid that he was wrong and messed things up already.

"I guess but… I'm just not the hugging type." Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry. I did not mean t-"

"It's fine, Cas. I'm kind of new to the friend thing too, I guess…" Castiel smiled brightly at him, slightly confusing Dean. "What?"

"Nothing it's just… Cas… I like that." That brought a smile to Dean's face. The first smile not brought on by Sammy since Jo died. And hopefully it wouldn't be the last.


End file.
